


Always Waiting

by PotionChemist



Series: The Memory of You Universe [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Flashbacks, Love Triangles, Obsession, Unrequited Love, Vignette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27764509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotionChemist/pseuds/PotionChemist
Summary: Blaise's story for The Memory of You, starting at the end of the war.Since the world had changed at the end of fourth year, I’d watched her. It was hard not to when I had Draco as a best mate. His eyes always drifted to her, pining from afar. After a few months of it, I’d started to see what he saw.
Relationships: Blaise Zabini/Original Female Character(s), Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: The Memory of You Universe [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630960
Comments: 64
Kudos: 131





	1. 1998-2000

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! Everything in here will be in Blaise's POV. More will be added to this piece when we hit significant milestones in the story.

**5** **th** **May 1998, Italy**

When The Daily Prophet hadn’t made its way to me in days, I knew something big had happened in Britain. Like clockwork, the lies the Dark Lord’s regime had forced the Prophet to print had been making their way to my mother’s villa in Sorrento. Of course, I’d been scared shitless, hiding out here while everyone I knew stayed in Britain. They were all in danger and I was safe for the time being.

But she — best friend of Harry Potter, Muggleborn witch — was in grave danger. 

Since the world had changed at the end of fourth year, I’d watched her. It was hard not to when I had Draco as a best mate. His eyes always drifted to her, pining from afar. After a few months of it, I’d started to see what he saw. She was brilliant, but I’d already known that. She was beautiful and strong-willed and so at ease in our world, even though it was new to her. With every new spell or potion she learned, she grew more and more powerful.

More and more desirable.

But I never spoke to her. I couldn’t do that to Draco, and it had been too dangerous to align myself with Harry Potter.

I watched her from afar, just like Draco. As she fell in love with Weasley and dissolved into tears when he’d taken up with Lavender Brown, I wanted to take her pain away, to ease the ache and show her that he wasn’t good enough for her.

And then sixth year ended with Dumbledore’s death and my choices were taken away. My mother brought me to Italy and told me I wouldn’t be returning to Hogwarts. She hired me a private tutor who had a mastery in Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms, telling me I needed to be prepared if the Death Eaters ever came calling.

However, when today’s paper arrived, I learned it had all been for nothing — Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord. My eyes hungrily scanned the words, looking for mention of her. Of course, there wasn’t much on the front page. That was all dedicated to The-Boy-Who-Lived-Again, complete with the biggest photo of Potter I’d ever seen.

When I opened the paper fully to continue reading, I saw her. She and Weasley were wrapped around each other, and Potter and the Weaselette were beside them. The caption under the photo said something about the Golden Couples, and I could almost see the sneer Draco would wear when he saw it.

If he had survived.

Swallowing hard, I kept reading, not letting the minor setback of Ron Weasley bother me. After all, if Draco was alive and well, I wouldn’t ever go after Granger, anyway. I couldn’t do that to him; he’d suffered enough.

There was so much information about her in here.

She’d be moving in with Potter temporarily, staying at the London townhouse he’d inherited from Sirius Black. After a few months of travel, she’d start at the DMLE with Potter and Weasley, but not as an Auror. She’d negotiated a position as a researcher and intended to study for her NEWT and mastery level courses while working.

That was Hermione Granger in a nutshell — smart, hard-working, and ambitious.

I looked at the smile that spread across her face once more and decided I needed to get studying myself.

I needed NEWTs in Defence, Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, and at least one other subject to become an Auror and join the DMLE.

* * *

**12** **th** **August 1998, Italy**

I’d been studying non-stop, blowing through loads of Galleons on tutors and books. By September, I would be ready to take my NEWTs.

The Prophet had been delivering news regularly, but today’s edition was different. She was there again, on the front page. Weasley’s arms were encircling her as she cried, Potter standing alongside them with a hand on her back. 

I swore I could feel her pain.

The headline above read, _WAR HEROINE OBLIVIATES PARENTS TO SAVE THEIR LIVES, SPELL DEEMED IRREVERSIBLE_.

As the photo played on a loop, I wondered how the press had known exactly when her Portkey would be landing in the Ministry. And why did it seem like she was just reuniting with Weasley? Why hadn’t he been with her, wherever she’d been?

Did that mean this thing between them wouldn’t work out?

Further into the paper, I found an article about the Malfoys. They had all been held under house arrest pending trial. When I’d first learned Draco had made it through the war, I’d grinned and shook my head, knowing he’d somehow managed to keep his head down after the Vanishing Cabinet incident. 

As I read the article, I learned Narcissa Malfoy had already been pardoned for any offenses — saving the Chosen One had worked in her favour. Lucius had also turned traitor, giving the Ministry information on all those who had been in the Dark Lord’s ranks and housed inside Malfoy Manor. However, his fate had not yet been determined, and neither had Draco’s.

I knew I had to get back to Britain sooner rather than later. It might be possible for me to testify on Draco’s behalf, to tell everyone that he didn’t really harbour ill-will against all Muggleborns.

* * *

**4** **th** **September 1998, London**

As I approached the courtroom where Draco’s trial would be held, I spotted a familiar trio in the corridor. Potter’s hair was sticking up all over the place, just like it always had, and Hermione was mothering him, patting it down. 

“For the love of Godric, Harry. You can use _magic_ ,” she stated. “I’m sure you can find a spell that fixes your hair.”

Potter grinned at her. “But I’m the Chosen One. Everyone knows my hair is like this and they don’t care.”

“Remind me again why we’re here?” Weasley asked. “It’s not like Malfoy did anything to help us.”

Hermione glared at him. “You know just as well as I do that he stalled his father and his aunt the best he could. He acted like he didn’t know who Harry was. And before that, he lowered his wand on top of the Astronomy Tower. You know that, Ron.”

“He hasn’t done anything right,” Weasley muttered, earning himself a smack on the arm.

“Well, he hasn’t exactly done anything wrong either, unless he was forced into it. Can you imagine being in his shoes for one moment? You’re a pureblood. What if your father had been like his?” Hermione replied.

Smiling to myself, I walked past the trio and straight into the courtroom, knowing that Draco would be over the moon when he heard her defending his actions to the Wizengamot.

Maybe he’d forgive himself if she forgave him first.

* * *

**16** **th** **January 1999, London**

Draco and I sat side-by-side, listening to another inane Auror lesson on how to essentially manipulate a witness into giving up information. I wrote on the edge of my parchment.

_Clearly, this guy knows nothing about pureblood families and Slytherin alumni._

Snickering, he wrote back.

**_I bet we could get more information out of anyone than he could. Especially a witch. Throw on a smile and some charm, you slip in some cute Italian nicknames, a few small touches to urge them along… and they’ll be telling us their life stories._ **

With a grin, it played out in my head. We would make a great team — that was for sure. We always had.

The door to our classroom opened, and Hermione stepped in. The instructor greeted her politely and Draco’s eyes roamed over her hungrily. I suppose mine did, too. She was finally looking healthy, her lost weight from the war regained and her hair neatly styled. After a moment, I snapped out of it and nudged Draco.

“You’re staring, mate,” I whispered, pulling his attention away from her.

Since Italian nicknames had been on my mind, I thought of the perfect one for her.

_Tesoro._

Treasure. She was something to be cherished.

I hoped Weasley realised what he had.

* * *

**5** **th** **June 1999, London**

“I think I love her,” Draco drawled drunkenly. “But I don’t deserve her. She needs someone better than me.”

We’d been having this conversation a lot over the past few months, and it was grating on my nerves. 

“Mate, she’s with Weasley. They’ll probably be getting married in a year or two. You need to let her go,” I said, reminding both of us that she was completely off the market. 

He looked at me. “But Weasley isn’t better than me. That’s why I can’t stop thinking about her.”

I couldn’t, either. But I also couldn’t admit that to Draco.

“Then tell her you love her.”

Even though I’d go mad with jealousy, I wanted him to tell her, to go after what he wanted for once in his life. He was my best friend, and he’d wanted her first.

Groaning, he replied, “I just can’t. She’d never believe me and I was horrible to her. Like I said, better than me, but not Weasley since he’s not better than me.”

I almost asked if he’d consider me better than Weasley or himself, but I held my tongue. 

Like always.

* * *

**31** **st** **October 1999, London**

While I was sitting at The Leaky Cauldron, waiting for Draco, I saw Hermione and Weasley. They were sitting at a corner table, clearly arguing. 

She looked miserable.

Weasley was glowering at her and I couldn’t look away. I knew I shouldn’t stare, that I should give them their privacy, but I couldn’t. I needed to make sure she was okay. Her brows furrowed together as she argued with him about something. Discreetly, I moved closer.

“—married next summer, Hermione! I want to settle down!”

I’d missed the first half of the sentence, but it didn’t matter. I knew what he was saying, and my insides twisted.

“If this is your idea of a romantic proposal, you’re missing the mark,” she quipped.

His face reddened. “Of course not! You’re the one who wants to talk every bloody plan to death, so I thought I’d ask you about it first.”

“Ron, I’ve just turned twenty! You’re only nineteen. What’s the rush?”

“I love you. I know I want to be with you,” he replied, his voice much kinder and softer than it had been before. “I’ve known I loved you since second year. I just didn’t know what the feelings were.”

This conversation was getting deep. Way too deep for a public area. Anyone could overhear them.

“I’m not ready. If you love me, you’ll wait until I am.”

Smiling to myself, I walked away, towards the Floo that Draco had just stepped through. I was proud that she’d stood up for herself.

Before Draco could notice her and Weasley, I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and guided him towards the door. “Come on, mate. We’ll have better luck at the Wyvern. This place is absolutely packed and I like to work more one on one.”

He laughed and nodded in agreement. “Let’s go. I’ll be your wingman.”

* * *

**3** **rd** **April 2000, London**

_HERMIONE GRANGER AND RONALD WEASLEY CALL IT QUITS AFTER NEARLY TWO YEARS_

The headline caught me off guard, and I knew Draco would be stepping through my Floo at any moment. He would be unbearable. 

I could see him clearly in my mind. He’d be running his fingers through his hair manically, tugging at it. And I’d have to pretend I wasn’t feeling just as conflicted.

Was she okay? Did she have somewhere to stay? Who would Potter side with?

Should I reach out to her?

I sat at my dining table, looking at the picture and waiting.

It seemed I was always waiting.

Just as predicted, a disheveled Draco stepped through my Floo, wearing only pyjama pants and staring at me with crazy eyes.

“I take it you saw the paper,” I said.

“What the fuck happened?” 

Shrugging, I looked away. I had a feeling someone had gotten tired of waiting for her to be ready for marriage.

* * *

**5** **th** **June 2000, Amsterdam**

For his birthday, I’d brought Draco to Amsterdam.

Ever since Hermione had split with Weasley, he’d been pining harder than a teenaged girl, his pupils turning into little fucking hearts every single time he caught a glimpse of her in the office.

Hell, he’d even spoken to her a few times now.

I’d sat back and quietly waited, just like I always had. Regardless of her single status, he still hadn’t asked her out. It seemed like he would eventually warm to the idea, though.

Leaning back in my seat, I watched the dancers on our table, painted brunette beauties who weren’t shy about touching each other. Of course, we were only allowed to look

Draco sipped his firewhisky and smirked whenever the women made eye contact with him, but I was certain his head wasn’t here, either.

This was empty. So fucking empty. 

Amsterdam had been a stupid idea.

He met my eyes across the table and raised an eyebrow, silently asking if I was enjoying this. I shrugged and set some money down on the table. When he did the same, we both stood and walked out, moving down the street and looking at the girls in the windows, advertising.

“Are there real girls anywhere in this city?” Draco asked. “I’m more than happy to be a wingman, but I don’t think you need to pay for it.”

“It’s your birthday. I’ll be your wingman,” I offered. “I don’t think you’ve been with anyone since—”

“The war. I was with Pansy a few times in seventh year, just blowing off steam or whatever.”

“Anything that happens here stays here, obviously.”

Draco smirked. “It’s not like either of us are with anyone.”

* * *

**19** **th** **September 2000, London**

A magnificent bouquet for Granger was delivered to the office, pink and white and yellow flowers. When she received them, she smiled widely and started looking for a card. 

There wasn’t one.

I glanced over at Draco, noticing the way his cheeks were the tiniest bit pink. When he met my eyes, I shook my head.

He couldn’t talk to her for more than a minute or two, but he could anonymously send her a vase of fucking flowers that cost hundreds of Galleons.

Insufferable.


	2. 2001-2002

**2** **nd** **May 2001, Hogwarts**

"Is that Pansy?" Draco asked, looking over at Potter, who was sweeping a brunette around the dance floor.

"I think it is," I replied, shocked.

I'd never seen Pansy Parkinson in red, but it suited her. She was wearing heels that made her taller than Potter, but he clearly didn't care. The sexual tension between the two of them was palpable. When he leaned in and kissed her, I wasn't the least bit surprised, though most in the audience were.

Especially Hermione and Ginny Weasley.

Draco noticed them, as well.

How could he miss the woman he was so desperately in love with when she looked like _that_? Her curls were piled atop her head with only a few loose around her face, and her dress was a deep shade of teal, form-fitting and long.

Hermione took Ginny's hand in hers, looking between where Potter and Pansy, and Luna Lovegood and Weasley were dancing. I watched as she whispered in Ginny's ear. With a nod from the redhead, they left the ballroom, likely heading for a good cry in the ladies'.

When Draco started to step forwards, I stopped him. This wasn't the moment for him to play the hero.

As the spell that had formed between them broke, Potter took Pansy's hand and led her over to us. I saw the wheels turning in Draco's mind while they told us how they'd met at a pub the night before and decided to meet here. If Potter could date Pansy — the girl who wanted to turn him over to the Dark Lord — surely Draco could ask Hermione on a date.

Before we finished our conversation, Lucius and Narcissa interrupted. "Draco, the Greengrasses want to catch up with us."

"I've already spoken with them tonight," Draco answered, his eyes still fixed on where Hermione had exited the room.

It was well-known in Slytherin that Draco Malfoy had been betrothed to Astoria Greengrass, though I had thought the contract was broken after the war.

By the look of fear on his face, I knew my assumption was wrong.

"Draco," Lucius said. "Surely you can speak with Mr Potter and Mr Zabini in the office."

Never one to disappoint his father, he nodded and went along, resigned.

Pansy sighed. "He's an idiot."

I had to agree.

* * *

**5** **th** **June 2001, Sorrento**

"The Greengrasses are pressuring us to set a date."

I reclined in my sun lounger, wishing I had taken Draco anywhere but my Italian villa. It was quiet here, so there was nothing to distract him.

Over the last year, we'd closed cases and partied hard after, drowning ourselves in firewhisky and all the wrong women. I'd watched him pine more and more, repeating the phrase "she deserves someone better than me" over and over again on a fucking loop. It was driving me mad.

"So?" I replied.

"What do you think I should do?"

I'd been waiting for this question for the past month.

"Is your father leaving it up to you?"

Draco shrugged. "Seems like it, but who knows?"

"Are you ever going to get the balls to ask Hermione out?"

I expected him to use his trademark phrase. But he didn't, and it shocked me.

"Haven't you noticed that she doesn't even look at me, Blaise?" he began. "Unless I say hello to her first, she ignores me. She still hates me."

Of course, I had noticed this, but I didn't draw the same conclusion he had. Draco flustered her, like she didn't know what to make of him, ever since he'd joined the DMLE.

Even though I didn't want to, I swallowed my own feelings and said, "Well, you could try talking to her. She might warm up to you if you're actually friendly."

"What do I tell the Greengrasses?"

I nearly groaned in frustration. Being a good friend to Draco was the hardest thing I'd ever done in my life.

"Tell them you need more time. You're working all the time since you're just starting out. Whatever you need to say, just say it."

He nodded thoughtfully.

* * *

**19** **th** **September 2001, London**

On a whim, I'd headed to The Leaky Cauldron on my own.

It was Hermione's birthday and, even three months later, Draco still hadn't managed to strike up a decent conversation with her. With any other witch, he was his arrogant yet charming self.

But with _Granger_ , as he called her, he turned to mush until another man approached her. Then he got moody and jealous.

Intending to meet someone to take home for the night, I stepped out and dusted off my robes. I was shocked to see Hermione sitting at the bar alone. By the way she was gently swaying, I knew she'd already been there for quite some time.

Hannah Abbott — soon to be Longbottom — was watching her closely.

Rather than sidling up to the bar, I slid into a booth, hanging my robes on the hook beside it. Hannah eventually made her way over to me. When she noticed me looking at Hermione, she smiled.

"Hey Blaise," she said. "How are you tonight?"

"I'm doing well. What about you?"

"I'm fine," Hannah replied. "Just spending some time chatting with Hermione. Ginny's meeting her here soon."

"Ahh, I didn't know the Harpies were in town," I answered, glancing over at her again. Her curls were tumbling down her back. And her back — it was exposed, her dress dipping low. I tried to refocus on Hannah. "Can I get a glass of wine please? Red?"

She nodded and hustled away, leaving me free to watch Hermione. She was smiling and laughing at something Hannah said.

My wine floated over to me and Hermione looked over her shoulder, giving me a little wave. Her grin made my heart stop, but I somehow managed to return the gesture. She started to stand, looking like she was going to make her way over to me, but then the door opened and a mane of Weasley red hair came through the door.

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" Ginny exclaimed, quickly moving towards Granger and wrapping her in a tight hug. "Happy Birthday."

"It's fine! We can just have a few drinks here."

Removing her light jacket, Ginny slid onto the barstool beside Hermione's, and Hermione sat down again. "I am so ready for a girls' night. Men are awful."

Hermione glanced at me over her shoulder, silently apologising. I saw Ginny start to talk animatedly, likely explaining why she hated men at this moment. Hannah leaned against the bar, joining in on the conversation. I knew I could probably go over there — insert myself into their night — but it didn't seem like the right time yet.

And then, much to my surprise, Draco stepped through the Floo and dusted himself off. He looked towards the bar, saw the two girls, and froze.

"Hey, mate," I said, drawing his attention and thanking the Gods that I would now have a reason to leave. "You're right on time."

Draco looked over at me, grateful that I'd given him an out.

Somehow, he'd known Hermione would be here and had worked up the courage to show, only to find her in deep conversation with Ginny Weasley.

He was crestfallen, and I started to feel guilty for even considering going to chat her up. Sure, she and I talked in the office, and I could make her laugh… But approaching her at a bar was a completely different story.

"Hey, Blaise," he replied. "Do you want to get out of here?"

With one last look at Hermione, I nodded. "Yeah. Probably best for us not to interrupt girls' night."

His timing — actually, both of our timing — was always awful when it came to her.

* * *

**2nd May 2002, Hogwarts**

The Chosen One proposed to Pansy in front of the whole goddamn wizarding world.

There were hugs and well-wishes and kisses exchanged. A bloody receiving line of sorts, though Potter made sure to make time for his nearest and dearest first.

Hermione looked particularly beautiful. She was in purple this year and her hair was pulled back elegantly. As soon as I'd seen her walk in, I swallowed hard. As usual, she came alone — no man dulling her sparkle. It made her seem even more unattainable.

"You've got it bad," Sara said, squeezing my arm and teasing me. "You should go talk to her, Blaise. It's been years at this point."

Of course she'd encourage me; she was the best friend I'd ever had.

"I can talk to her. That's not the problem," I replied. "Draco is the problem. He's my best mate."

"How long are you going to wait for him to get over his issues?" she asked, pulling me towards the dance floor. "He's had almost four years to go after her, Blaise."

"She and Weasley were together for the first two."

Rolling her eyes, she looped her arms around my neck. "I know that, but you two are ridiculous. She's just a woman."

"She's not just any woman, especially not for Draco," I said, pulling her close so we could talk quietly while we were dancing. "You were at Hogwarts for part of the time we were there. You know what he was like."

"He's clearly changed."

"He has, but there are some things that he'll never forgive himself for."

She looked up at me. "You Slytherins sure are good at punishing yourselves for the war, as if you weren't teenagers with little choice at the time."

I laughed. "And you Hufflepuffs are way too forgiving."

"Maybe," Sara replied with a shrug of her shoulders. "But you're a good man, Blaise. You deserve to be happy."

Her fingers stroked along the back of my neck, making a shiver slide down my spine.

"You know, I'm starting to believe you."

She smiled. "Good, because it's the truth."

Immediately after the Malfoys congratulated Potter and Pansy, I saw the Greengrasses corner Draco, likely wondering if he would ever uphold his end of the deal with Astoria. It had been almost a year since he'd asked for more time.

Other than exchanging books at Christmas and the occasional hello in the office, he hadn't really tried to speak to Hermione, and I'd stopped encouraging him. If he couldn't do it on his own, it was going to be his loss.

* * *

**31st October 2002**

Potter and Pansy were married.

They were dancing, Ron Weasley and Luna Lovegood nearby. My eyes drifted around the garden, searching for two people.

The same two people I'd been fucking watching for years at this point.

I found Draco first. He was sitting on his own, looking off into the distance. I only had to follow his line of sight to find Hermione. And when I found her, my heart hurt. She was sitting on her own, her lips trembling as she watched her two best friends dancing with their wives. They were all smiling and laughing, and I could only imagine how she was feeling.

She'd shared every single major milestone with them, and now they were moving into the next phase of their lives without her.

She was devastated.

Swallowing hard, I looked back to Draco. He was still pining from afar, never willing to truly approach her, even though I knew they could work. He loved her so much — probably at least as much as I did — and they were well-suited.

Knowing I couldn't approach her while Draco was watching, I moved to sit beside him.

"Man up and go ask her to dance," I stated, the words nearly sticking in my mouth. "Look at how sad she is."

Sighing, he replied, "We've talked about this. I can't."

"You can. You're just being fucking stupid, Draco. You're acting like you're still a lovesick teenager."

"That's fitting because that's what I feel like whenever I look at her." He ran a hand through his hair, pushing his fringe back. "Blaise, it physically _hurts_ for me to see her like this. I feel like my heart is breaking, too."

I arched an eyebrow at his dramatics, even though I was feeling the same way right now. I couldn't let on that I understood.

"Where's Sara?" he asked, changing the subject quickly. "Shouldn't you be with her instead of me?"

I shrugged. "She's catching up with Hannah and Longbottom. Hufflepuffs and all."

Hermione rose, gently wiping tears away from her eyes, and Draco watched her walk towards a group of Gryffindors. I clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, mate. Let's find you something to ease the pain of being a coward."

He grumbled, but he followed me closely.


	3. 2003-February 2004

**1st January 2003**

"Oh Gods!"

I was doing something that I knew I shouldn't be, but I'd spent New Years' Eve with Draco, and he'd gotten drunk.

Hermione had shown up to the Ministry party with some fucking Hufflepuff, and he'd started naming their fucking children even though it was likely only a first date.

"Blaise!" Sara screamed, her hips canting up to meet mine as I slammed into her.

I hitched her thigh higher so I could sink deeper, so I could lose myself in her. She was exactly what I needed tonight. Eager. Enthusiastic. Caring.

She only had eyes for me.

"Come for me, _cara_ ," I purred in her ear, grinding down on her. "I need to feel you."

As she screamed my name, I looked down at her and I actually felt guilty. She wasn't who I wanted — she was supposed to be my best friend — but it felt so fucking _good_ to be noticed. If I was honest about it, I'd known she'd been waiting for this opportunity. And I'd held back, knowing this would be a mistake.

Fucking Sara would lead to a lot of expectations and questions, and I'd have to deal with them immediately.

But, after she came, she flipped us over and pressed her hands against my chest. When she started to move, riding me, my mind went blank. It wasn't often that I wanted to cede control in the bedroom, but she'd caught me off-guard.

And, fuck, I loved it right now.

Sara was amazing. She knew how to move, how to please, and she was gorgeous. Her blonde hair swayed with her body and her tits bounced. Reaching up, I plucked at her nipples, playing with them and making her moan.

Her cunt started fluttering around me again and she hissed when I slid my fingers down to her clit, rubbing her as she kept fucking me.

She leaned back, her hands bracing on my thighs, and I watched her body rolling over me like a wave. Her clit was swollen, her nipples were hard and straining, and I wanted to see her like this all the time.

Maybe there was something to having a connection with a partner, rather than just fooling around with a random girl.

I started snapping my hips up harder and she screamed, chasing my thoughts away again.

"Yes! Oh, fuck, yes!"

"You're fucking gorgeous," I grunted, barely registering my own words. "Fuck, you've been hiding this from me."

She didn't answer, but she shook and shuddered as she clenched around me, and I let go with her, coming hard.

When Sara let herself fall back, and my cock slipped out of her body. I felt her shift, moving her legs so they were extended rather than bent. I smiled and sat up, looking down at her.

Her hands were pressed over her face, so I placed my hands on her thighs and stroked them up and down, my thumbs brushing against the lips of her cunt.

It was pink and glistening, and I saw my come dripping out of it. Something inside of me was so fucking excited by that.

"Blaise," she gasped as my thumb pressed against her clit again, circling it. "Oh, fuck, that's so good."

I could see her body grasping for me, and my cock started to fill with blood again.

"Was there something you wanted?" I teased, making her look up at me. I pressed harder and her eyes rolled back.

"I want whatever you're willing to give me," she said, and I knew it had a double meaning.

Kissing the smooth skin of her inner thigh, I moved, bringing myself to kneeling on the bed.

"Can you handle more?"

She nodded eagerly. "I've never had two orgasms like that in my life."

I smirked. "Let's see if we can get a few more out of you, then. Turn over."

As wrong as it was, I knew Sara was the perfect substitute, the perfect distraction.

* * *

**1st October 2003**

When I saw the headline in the paper, I nearly spat my morning coffee everywhere.

_MALFOY HEIR TO WED ASTORIA GREENGRASS IN APRIL_

Draco hadn't even mentioned it to me.

I honestly couldn't fucking believe it. After everything — the years of pining, the overdramatics — he was just giving up on Hermione. He was going to marry Astoria, and I was ready to punch him in the fucking face.

Even though I'd wanted her just as much as he did, I'd stayed away from her, hoping that he'd eventually take a chance and get close to her.

As soon as I walked into the DMLE, I spotted him at his desk. I walked over to him and pulled him out of his chair, dragging him into a conference room. Throwing up a _Muffliato_ , I said, "What is wrong with you?"

"My father—"

"Has no real say over your life, Draco!" I interrupted. "Fucking hell, you're going to be miserable, and Astoria is too!"

He sighed. "I don't want to keep fucking random girls, Blaise. I want to have a family and all those things. Pining after Granger… It's just childish. I can't keep doing it."

"But you could tell her how you feel!" I shouted, grabbing his shoulders. "It's been five fucking years since the war. You send her flowers on her birthday every year, and you exchange books every Christmas—"

"She doesn't know about the flowers," he said, looking away. "I've never sent a card. I don't—She doesn't need to know."

"Draco, you could have a chance with her if you tried—"

"No!" he spat. "For the love of Merlin, Blaise! Granger deserves more than a former Death Eater with a father who would treat her like she was nothing!"

"Are you seriously still afraid of getting disowned? After all this time?"

His cheeks flushed the slightest amount, and I nearly felt bad for him.

"It's not about the money," Draco began, his voice shaking. "It's about my mother and, hell, even my father. I almost lost them during the war, and I don't want to—I can't lose my whole family. Even for her."

It suddenly became clear to me that Draco wasn't afraid of Hermione rejecting him. He was more worried that she'd accept him — want to be with him — and then he'd have to choose between his family and his potential future with her. It was easier for him to believe that she would never be interested in him.

"You're making a mistake," I told him. "A really big fucking mistake."

Shrugging, he said, "It's not my first, and I'm sure it won't be my last."

* * *

**21st December 2003**

Sitting at my desk, I watched as Draco spoke to Hermione. They were outside of her office and her hair was tied back in a knot of some sort. She was smiling and laughing at whatever he said, and I felt jealousy surge in my chest.

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a book for her — something small that made her smile even wider — and she summoned a neatly wrapped package from her office, handing it to him. His fingers ran over the red satin ribbon on the package and then he pulled the tail of the bow, releasing it.

Her eyes stayed focused on his face as he unwrapped her gift, and I knew she'd been excited to give this gift to him.

Fuck, Draco was deaf, dumb, and blind if he didn't realise her interest in him. She may not touch him, but she probably thought he'd reject her, too.

They were both stupid, but I couldn't bring myself to push them together.

As wrong as it was, I wanted her for myself. She was the ideal — the perfect witch. In my head, she was still Tesoro — one to be treasured. Even if I'd been with Sara pretty regularly over the past year, I still wanted Hermione.

I watched him grin at her and leaf through the pages of the book as he thanked her. She looked up at him like she wanted him to continue the conversation, but he tore himself away from her.

Like I said, fucking blind.

* * *

**14th February 2004**

The Leaky Cauldron was decorated with fucking roses and heart-shaped paper cutouts. It looked like Madam Puddifoot's in Hogsmeade and I rolled my eyes.

Fucking Hufflepuffs and their holiday celebrations.

The tables were all taken, and I wondered what kind of arsehole chose to take his date to a pub like this for a _romantic_ night out.

Sara had tried to get me to agree to a date, but Valentine's Day meant we were doing more than hanging out and fucking from time to time. I'd told her I was working to get out of it, and I felt surprisingly guilty about that.

As I walked to the bar, I saw familiar dark curls held back with a jeweled hair clip.

I'd been admiring that hair clip this morning during a meeting.

She was sitting at the bar alone, and I couldn't stop myself from taking the seat next to her. Looking at her glass, I saw the olives and asked, "Martini?"

She nodded and said, "Zabini."

I waved to Hannah. "Another martini for the lady and I'll have my usual."

"Of course," Hannah answered.

I turned back to Hermione. "What are you doing here?"

She swiveled her body towards me. "I could ask you the same thing."

"I'm having a drink," I replied.

"Funny. I'm having several."

"Is that usual for you?" I asked, even though I knew it was. I'd seen her here a few times, chatting with Hannah and being completely oblivious to what was going on around her.

Hermione looked at me questioningly. "Why do you care?"

"I don't."

Fuck, that was the biggest lie.

"Shouldn't you be out with your slag of the week?"

Apparently she'd noticed my dating habits. The very thought of her watching me made my stomach fill with pixies and my heart speed up.

I wasn't invisible to her.

"I don't take women out on Valentine's Day." I reached for my firewhisky, taking it from Hannah. "I also don't fuck women on Valentine's Day. Too many expectations."

"Ah, I see," she said, feigning surprise. "You reserve Valentine's Day for self-love."

Unable to stop myself, I laughed. Hard.

And Hermione smiled at me, lifting her martini glass to her red lips.

"Shouldn't some handsome wizard be romancing you tonight? Trying to get into those golden knickers?"

She rolled her eyes. "My knickers aren't golden."

Was she flirting with me?

I knew I shouldn't take the bait, but I couldn't resist.

"What colour are they?"

Crossing her legs in an exaggerated manner, Hermione said, "You will _never_ know anything about my knickers, Zabini."

But I had imagined them. Her arse in a lacy black pair, a satin pair that matched her lipstick, dampened with her arousal…

"Oh, Hermione, you want me to know all about your knickers," I began, deliberately wetting my lips with my tongue. Her eyes had focused on the motion, watching me. "I bet I could even teach you a thing or two about—"

"Blaise? Granger?" Draco said, walking up to us.

"Malfoy," she greeted, giving him a small smile.

"Draco."

"What are you two doing here?" he asked, and I could see the panic in his eyes, even if she couldn't.

"I'm getting pissed," Hermione stated. "It's a standing tradition for me on this sham of a holiday."

"And I was just passing through and thought she might like some company," I answered. "What are you doing here?"

His eyes hardened the smallest amount, but I noticed. He was genuinely worried that I was trying to pick her up at The Leaky fucking Cauldron of all places.

"I'm on my way to meet Astoria. She and Daphne were in Paris earlier, and their Portkey gets in at eight."

Hermione glanced at the clock over the bar. "You'd better get going. Wouldn't want to keep the future Lady Malfoy waiting."

Her voice was taunting, and Draco looked confused.

He still didn't fucking get that she had been attracted to him at one point or another.

"I suppose so," he answered, watching her take a deep drink of her martini. "Blaise, can I speak to you outside?"

And, just as I went to stand, Hermione said, "Enjoy your night, Malfoy, Zabini. I'm just going to go to my room."

"Room?" Draco asked.

She nodded. "I'm staying here tonight. Hannah told me she wouldn't let me Apparate if I had more than two martinis."

"Smart witch," I replied. "Do you need help getting there?"

Again, Hermione laughed. "Oh no, Zabini. I'm fine on my own. I don't need to learn anything you could teach me."

"Granger, maybe we should—"

"Malfoy, I'm fine," she said, snapping at him. "I'm not so drunk that I'll stumble into some poor unsuspecting wizard's room."

He held up his hands in surrender.

"Goodnight, Tesoro," I purred, tossing her a wink.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin," she laughed. "I'm sure all the slags love those little Italian nicknames. Save them for someone else."

_Not Tesoro. That's only for you, love._

As soon as she'd turned to walk away, Draco grabbed my forearm and pulled me towards the door. I held up a finger to Hannah, signalling that I'd be back to pay my tab.

"Mate, calm the fuck down," I hissed as he opened the door to Muggle London.

When we were on the street, he looked at me, his eyes flashing with anger and panic. "What was that, Blaise? What the fuck did you offer to _teach_ her?"

I rolled my eyes. "For Salazar's sake, Draco. I saw her sitting at the bar alone and decided to have a drink with her. I was myself and flirted a bit—"

"You can't be yourself with her," he snapped. "If I have to watch her fall in love with you—"

My heart started racing, hopeful that it could actually happen. But I knew I wouldn't let myself get that close to her.

"She won't," I interrupted. "You need to stop fucking freaking out every time another bloke speaks to her, especially since you've never worked up the nerve to tell her how you feel."

He sighed. "I know. I just — I can't watch it up close. It can't be you."

Couldn't be Weasley, couldn't be me, couldn't be the poor bleeding Hufflepuff from New Years' Eve…

"You're never going to stop obsessing over her, are you?"

"I'm hoping that once Astoria and I know each other a little better, it will fade. Maybe I can fall for her," Draco answered. "But I can't watch you with her—"

"Mate, relax," I said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "I wouldn't do that to you."

Running a hand through his blond fringe, he looked away. "Thanks."

And I watched him walk away, silently cursing him for ruining the moment between Hermione and me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next installment is a pretty significant date... 
> 
> See you soon.


	4. April-May 2004

**3rd April 2004**

When Draco didn't show up to the Manor on time, Lucius looked to me, silently telling me to go and find him.

Hoping he was just hungover and had overslept, I made my way to The Leaky Cauldron.

"Morning, Blaise," Hannah greeted, smiling at me. "What's up?"

"I'm here to get the groom," I responded. "I'm guessing he's having a bit of a lie-in after all the firewhisky last night."

She laughed and said, "Where's Sara? You two looked awfully cosy."

Fuck.

I waved her off. "Oh, that's nothing. We're just friends. I made sure she got home safely last night."

_And made her come four times, but who's counting?_

"So chivalrous, and you're not even a Gryffindor! And you don't have to worry about Hermione. I saw you watching her last night, too. I put her up in one of the rooms," she offered, arching an eyebrow. "Don't think I haven't noticed the way you keep the blokes away from her when she's in a state."

Clearing my throat, I said, "Well, I'd do the same for any woman."

"I doubt that, but it's sweet of you to say."

"So, what room is Draco in?" I asked, making a show of looking at my watch. I didn't want her to continue pressing me about Hermione or Sara or anything really.

"He's in ten," Hannah answered, moving towards the old-fashioned keys fastened to a board. "I'll give you the spare so you can get in and wake him."

As I took the key from her hand, I smiled warmly. "Thank you. I'll put everything to rights if he was sick or anything."

"Draco really didn't drink all that much, so I'm not worried."

Mentally rolling my eyes, I made my way up the stairs and into the hallway. When I got to the door for room ten, I gave a warning knock, hoping to startle him awake. As I unlocked it, I got a strange feeling of foreboding. Quickly, I shoved it down and threw the door open, a huge grin plastered on my face.

And then I got the shock of my life.

Draco was still in bed, and he had Hermione wrapped up in his arms. I stumbled, catching myself at the last possible moment.

Without thinking, I said, "Mate, what the fuck were you thinking?"

Draco only shook his head and murmured, "I wasn't."

His hand stroked over her hair, teasing her sleep-and-sex rumpled curls. As he smoothed them away from her sleeping face, I felt my anger growing. She was tucked into his side — exactly the way I longed to wake up with her.

"Obviously! You pick the night before the wedding to finally make a move on Granger?"

I could hear the venom in my voice, and I hoped that he couldn't tell I was seething with jealousy.

Draco looked down at her in awe, like he couldn't believe she was really there with him, and said, "I swear, it wasn't like that. I wouldn't have. She thought this was her room and we… She said some things, and then I said some things, and we just sort of… collided."

Again, I couldn't hold back.

"And what, Draco? She just magically ended up naked and bouncing on your cock?" I scoffed.

"You know how I feel about her. Better late than never, right?"

"Wrong!" I shook my head. "You should've sent her on her way!"

"I couldn't. You know I couldn't!"

"So you're going to abandon Astoria on your wedding day? Embarrass her in front of everyone we've known since we were kids because Granger deigned to spread her legs for you after all these years? Do you honestly think things would work out between the two of you?"

Draco sat in bed, most of his attention still focused on Hermione, and didn't respond. I knew I should stop, but I couldn't. There was panic racing through my body. I remembered what he'd said on Valentine's Day — _I can't watch it up close. It can't be you_.

Right now, in this moment, I realised I felt the same way. I couldn't watch her fall in love with him. It didn't matter that I knew what she meant to him or that I wouldn't pursue her afterwards. I had to convince him to marry Astoria.

"It's time to let go of this childish fantasy, Draco. You've been wanking to her since we were teenagers. You've had a taste—"

"One taste is not enough," Draco interrupted. "She's better than I ever imagined. And she knew what we were doing last night. I made sure she was sober and wanted me before I even laid a finger on her."

"Mate, I hate to remind you of this, but your father will never allow you to skip out on the betrothal contract now. And she"—I gestured at Hermione—"won't want to be anywhere near your family. If you two were going to make amends, it would've happened long before now."

When Draco started to think about it — really think about it — I saw his features darkening, losing the happiness and hope that I'd noticed before.

Guilt and envy swirled together in my stomach, the way they often did, but I knew I was getting through to him. I'd lived with a pining Draco this long; surely it wouldn't be any more difficult once he was married.

"How am I supposed to leave her?" Draco asked, his fingers still smoothing over her hair, his eyes dancing over every inch of her and committing it to memory. "She's going to hate me for this. I'm not exaggerating when I say there was a connection like I've never felt before between us last night."

"It was sex, Draco." I rolled my eyes at him. "Her cunt is no different than the one I was buried in last night."

Of course, I was envious that he'd had her while I'd been with Sara, but I needed to get a point across.

"It wasn't just sex," he replied sullenly. "It was more than that. She felt it, too."

"Did you make her come?"

"Of course I did. I'm not selfish—"

I interrupted him, taking the opportunity to really drive in deep. "That's what she felt, then. She's never tried to befriend you. We've worked in the DMLE for over five years now. How many times have you spoken to her about something unrelated to a case? Or a book?"

"Not many," Draco admitted. "We're cordial enough."

"Is that enough to give up the marriage you agreed to? To hurt someone who's been nothing but kind and accommodating while you made up your mind?" I questioned, pushing him towards Astoria again.

"But what if—"

I held up a hand, halting whatever he was going to say. "Stop. You can say 'what if' a million times. It doesn't change the fact that you're about two hours from being married and Granger used you last night."

Draco looked down at her again. "Do a you really think that's what it was? She just wanted to fuck?"

"I can't say for sure, but don't you think she would've approached you before now if she were interested in you?"

Draco looked up at me, and I could tell I was really fucking him up. As much as that had been my goal, it still made me feel like shit.

"I suppose she would have," he said quietly. "But I'm going to hate myself if I don't at least find out—"

"And what about her?" I asked, once again unable to stop myself. "Do you think it's fair to put her on the spot — the morning of your wedding — and ask her to decide if she wants to make a go of something? After one night?"

His eyes flitted down to Hermione again. "No. It's not fair, and she deserves better than me, anyway."

I conjured a piece of parchment and quill. "Mate, you need to be gone when she wakes up. Otherwise, you're never going to be able to leave her. Write her a note and let's get out of here. Tell her that you're sorry and you shouldn't have done this."

Carefully, Draco began untangling himself from Hermione, even though he looked like it physically pained him to let go of her. I tried not to watch, but at the same time, I couldn't look away. She was right there in front of me. She shifted and grumbled, reaching out for Draco more than once and frowning, like she was already accustomed to him sleeping beside her.

It made my vision turn an even uglier shade of green.

As Draco dressed, my eyes bounced between the two of them. I didn't want him to catch me staring at her, but she was too fucking tempting.

I'd never seen her so relaxed, so utterly beautiful.

After a few minutes, Draco made his way over to the small desk and picked up the quill. I looked down at the blank parchment expectantly.

"I don't know what to say."

Faking sympathy, I said, "I already told you. Apologise. Tell her you're getting married today and that you shouldn't have done this. Maybe in another life, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger could've worked out. Something like that."

As Draco wrote the exact words I'd given him, I looked back to Hermione at every opportunity. She was miraculously still asleep, and I prayed she stayed that way for just a few more minutes.

But, fuck, I wanted to crawl into bed with her and take her into my arms. I knew the thought was completely inappropriate, but I wanted to know what her bare skin felt like and to smell the scent of her perfume up close. From a distance, it was lovely, but I needed more.

When Draco straightened, folding the parchment into thirds, his hands were shaking. He walked back towards the bed and leaned down, pressing one final kiss to her temple. Placing the note on the pillow he'd vacated, he tore his eyes away from her and strode towards the door, determined not to look back at her.

I was certain he simply couldn't look at her again. He'd made up his mind, but one more glance at her, and he'd falter.

With one last look at Hermione, I followed him. I still had to ensure that he made it down the aisle today.

* * *

**3rd May 2004**

Ever since Draco's wedding, I'd been dreading this day.

He was due back at work, and Hermione had seemed off ever since their shared night in the Leaky. She hadn't really been herself; more often than not, she was shutting herself in her office and working long hours. I wasn't sure if it was entirely related to Draco, but the timing seemed to line up.

As soon as he walked through the department doors, I saw his eyes scan the room, bouncing over to her door. She hadn't yet arrived, and that meant she'd be walking through any minute now.

Draco smiled at me and settled into his seat. "Morning."

I looked at him sceptically. "Morning. How was your honeymoon?"

"It was lovely," he replied. "Plenty of travelling and hotel rooms and fancy shopping districts."

"You hated every minute of it."

Shrugging, he said, "Just about. I couldn't stop thinking about—"

And then she appeared, like Draco's thoughts had summoned her. She kept her eyes straight ahead, not bothering to look over at either of us. In fact, she didn't look at anyone at all, just marched straight into her office, curls bouncing and hips swaying.

Draco's face flushed, and I saw his Adam's Apple bob. "—Granger," he finished as she closed her door.

I sighed, knowing that he was going to be even more insufferable than he had been before they'd slept together.

Maybe I'd made a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! ♥︎


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